Stapled Papers
by COMMA OF THOUGHT
Summary: SM: "My name is Bella,and if your reading this.. I am already dead." Edward asked for God to give him something and he got it. He finds the letter that will change his life... for the worst... or better. ExB/AH T for Now. may be M later for situations.


**Hey Y'all**

**I know! I know! I have a ton of other stuff that I need to update! But I had this idea because I read a book kind of like this. I have to take all my stuff in my word documents and put it on here or transfer it to this other fold**

**Because… I finally get my own computer.**

**So stay with me please. Go and check out my other stories, even if the earlier ones have worse grammar. I need writers block support!**

**I am trying hard on that! I am only a kid! Barely a teenager really! Don't kill me if my writing sucks. My point is… I NEED A BETA. PM me if you care.**

**Tell me if I should bother going on with this.**

**Disclaimer: Only own the non Twilight characters.**

**Now on with it**

**C H A P T E R 1**

"**Sometimes ****suicide**** isn't just an action, it's a choice in the back of the mind to save themselves from themselves.****" **

**Song: Never Going Back To Okay- The Afters**

"Okay, here is the deal. Lauren is waiting for me upstairs. You're going to wait for me so I'll have a ride. When I come back down, I won't be a virgin anymore." Tyler's voice rises at the end of his commands. It's funny how the same thing used to happen when we were ten and he was about to get a new video game or something. But now we are 17 year old boys at the biggest party of the year (at least for this Podunk town). Hormones are high and conscience is low. Innocence is dead.

And I would never use that word lightly after tonight was over.

I was secretly disgusted with Tyler. I understood the pressure of not wanting to be a virgin. Trust me. It's just that… Tyler is obsessed. He made a bet with a senior named Derik Nock (A guy you don't want to have any ties with). What are the bet's wagers? He must lose his virginity before the start of summer or pay up $500 and post a naked youtube video that involves a donkey. We had three weeks of school left.

His Expectations had gone extremely low. He had even taken a hooker into consideration. I had talked him out of it like I always do. So he settled for the next best thing, Lauren Mallory.

Tyler is now shifting from foot to foot impatiently.

"Fine" I grumble.

He sighs, smiles, and runs back toward the house. The happy drunks that are parked on the lawn cheer for him. I sit on the curb at the end of the drive way and look at the line of cars parked down the street. It seemed to go on forever.

My head is pounding from the beer that I had. I never drank. I let the most air blow through my bronze hair. I almost had the urge to slay my face against the cool concrete.

It was a stupid idea to come to this party. We had school tomorrow and if we were arrested any time soon, summer vacation might not happen for us. And by the sound of the gangsta rap that still pumps a couple of blocks down… the cops won't be to long.

And this is when I realize what I sound like. All of the mothers called me a 'sweet boy'. I always made the right decisions. I was always the designated driver.

I was bored out of my mind. I needed to live a little.

Cue, Tanya. It was like a prayer was being answered. It was just what I needed to stay intrigued and entertained. Tanya and I had never really gone out, but we had kissed each other during a game of spin the bottle in the 7th grade and I had a hard-on for the rest of the night. We have flirted shamelessly ever since. She was always my go to gal. All the guys knew to stay away from her because I was her guy. She didn't discourage them despite this.

She stepped onto the lawn and made it seem so much classier. The drunken idiots, the beer cans, the kegs, the broken bong, the old couch that was occupied by a couple making out on the lawn…. It looked like a photo shoot and she was the model.

She wore a pink halter top that screamed "Feel me up! Feel me up!" and the short jean skirt made her long legs look like they went on for days. The silver high heals make her feet look… I can't even describe the weird teenage sexual thought that just ran through my mind. Her strawberry blonde hair is blowing behind her.

This is when she notices that I am checking her out. My cheeks ketch on fire.

"Hey Eddie!" I'm surprised I could hear her all the way out here, the way she breathed my name. She was an expert.

I tried not cringe at the horrid nickname.

Cullen's crooked smile is plastered on my face.

"Lauren" I say slowly walking toward her. I didn't want to seem too eager. "What brings you here?" It was a stupid question, but it was something. What I had meant to say was: _"what are you doing in this town and not back home in Seattle on a runway somewhere?" _but that didn't happen.

"Umm…. I was just looking to find a good selection." She says coyly. I try not to focus on her tone that was laced with implications.

"Of what?" I say, leaning forward toward her over the railing of the porch.

"Drinks… of course." she giggles.

Enter the Incredible Hulk. He slips his arms around her waste. She looks at me and her smile falls a bit, but she doesn't push him off. The look he is giving me changes the atmosphere. The testosterone is pulsing.

This would be no challenge if the guy didn't look like he could bench press me.

Now I want to hide under rock.

"Emmett." She had a warning voice on.

Suddenly I'm back to not wanting to be here, but I can't back out first.

I look in the guys eyes and change my mind. Yes, yes I can.

"So I'll see you." And I turn before I can see their reaction.

A scrawny burn out sat on the grass smoking through an apple.

"Shot. Down." He slurred.

"Shut up." I snapped and continued to walk, blocking out his laugh.

I can't bring myself to feel sorry for Tyler. Besides, if the night goes as planned, nothing will be able to shit on his happy mood.

I let the cool, misty air mix with my leftover sweat from the house that was packed with body heat.

In movies, a guy would react differently when he is put into the fight-over-girl position that I was. He would be walking angrily through these twisty wet roads trying to calm himself, breathing heavily like a mad bull.

I am simply moseying back to my Volvo, peeking over my shoulder to see if the axe murder is behind me… or Emmet. If you were me you would know how I feel. It was dark and if you looked down the road it felt like you were in a vampire bat cave.

I sound like such a pussy.

And maybe I am. I had never been in a fight. Infect my mother had never even given me a spanking. I had never scratched up my knees in boyhood. I had never broken any bones. The only time I ever really hurt myself was when I was twelve. I had to get 7 stitches because I was chopping vegetables with my mom and had chopped right on into my own palm.

_What a battle scar._

No timeouts, no detentions, no referrals, no parking tickets… I was totally clean.

Not to mention, extremely bored.

I felt like I had a cubical job. This is sad because I am 17. I have rights and not to much responsibility. I should be having the time of my life. I should be rebelling against these rules. I should be trying to ease my boredom.

I'm either too lazy or too chicken to find out.

_God, give me something!_

And he did.

He heard me and snapped his fingers.

A big gust of wind kicks up. I know that that means a storm will come anytime now. I should probably run to my car now.

But I don't.

Something catches my eye in the distance. The canopy of the rainforest intersects over the road, making it look jaded and depressed. The blackness ahead is disturbed by something.

For a moment I think it's a dove. Maybe something spiritual was about to happen,

But as the white dove floats down from the skyscraper like trees, I notice something. The dove doesn't have a face. The dove just happens to be held together by staples that reflect off of nothing, but still shine. It's paper.

I don't know why, but I can't take my eyes off of it. I imagine that it is glowing like bioluminescent fish in the deep ocean. It's like a mosquito porch light and I'm the mosquito. I watch as it falls just a few yards away from me, right on the windshield of my car.

Then the wind stops.

The night is calm, misty, and damp again. I now realize just how loud the wind was. Since it's stopped, all I can hear is the frogs and crickets singing. Plus the bass from the house that is three blocks away.

I pull out my keys and hit the unlock button. My car beeps and lights up for a moment. It makes me feel like I am disturbing some kind of peace, but I ignore it.

My eyes never leave the stapled note book paper.

For some reason my body is moving slowly, even though my curiosity is begging me to run forward. Once I am close to the papers, I handle it like a butterfly wing. One touch and it would shrivel up and be ruined.

Tingling sensations run up my arm after I have the packet in my hand. It is as if the paper is on fire.

Now my body has the urge to move fast. To get in the car and drive like hell to get somewhere… and I don't know where that place is. But this feeling is unavoidable. Now I feel empty.

_Why the mood swings? PMSing? _

So I hop in my car and peel out.

I drive until I am back into the Seattle city limits. I don't stop when I zoom past my gated community.

I find myself in the parking lot of an old cottage bookshop.

The parking lot is vacant except for an old bug. I look inside the dimly shop and see an old Native American woman hunched over the cashier counter. I look out beyond the trees and see a cliff. The water crashes with the rocks.

I drove all the way to La Push First Beach.

_What the fuck am I doing here?_

When I was ten I went to a church camp. We did a workshop were we were blindfolded. The councilors had tied a string around the camp, and we had to hold onto the string and follow it. The point was to have faith that you wouldn't get hurt. The string was god, your only lifeline.

This is the only way I know how to describe what is happening.

I was led here. Buy why?

My feet climb the eaten wood of the steps.

The old woman's head snaps up and our eyes meet through the dirty window. She looks like she knows. I don't know what she knows, but I know she knows it. The crinkled plains of her face show it.

_That made a lot of sense. _

She doesn't take her black eyes off of me as I enter.

_Creepy_

Wing chimes mix with the sound of the ocean and my footsteps as the door hits them above my head.

The only way to describe the place is… warm. A sort of heat fills my chest like before and I feel my cheeks go red. I can feel the woman's eyes too.

There is a colorful afghan blanket on a red love seat in the corner. A lamp hangs above the chair.

I am drawn toward it in the same way I was drawn toward the paper.

So I walk toward it, listening to the sound of the waves and the floor protesting against my weight.

The seat is warm. I take in the sent of the area and almost become dizzy. Was it some kind of hypnotizing Indian incense?

The intoxicating sent reminds me of warmth all together, but it has a fresh and clean aura about it. Freesia, strawberry, soap, chocolate…

I take it in again.

This place is peaceful. Its all the more better now that I am surrounded by bookshelves and the woman can't see me, making me feel like she's hexing me.

Out the corner of my eye I see the cliff once again.

The tingling in my hand returns and I reflexively look down.

The thick packet of notebook paper is bound along the side by what looked like 100 staples overlapping.

But what caught my attention was the sketch on the first page.

It was two hands coming from the top of the page holding a single apple. Something about it was shocking. Something about it made me want to turn the pages, so I do.

My breath catches in my throat.

_You must have a big curiosity… or you're nosey. Maybe you're a criminal who picked this up along the high way while doing trash clean up. Maybe you will shove this in the garbage and never look at it again. Maybe this ink will smudge from the rain (there is plenty of that around) and the writing will be illegible. Maybe this is floating in the ocean somewhere._

_Maybe, Maybe, Maybe…_

_To tell you the truth I really don't care. Nobody else ever did._

_Perhaps the people that really need to see this never will._

_But we don't always get what we need, do we?_

_I spent about four months writing this, and when it was done all I did was go out on the back porch and let it go. The wind carried it away and I didn't really know where it would end up._

_The only one I hoped would get this is God. Because I don't think he got my prayers._

_And if by some crazy chance, there is a person reading this, than you should pay attention._

_Once you open these stapled papers, there is no going back._

_My name is Isabella Marie Swan. But I always went by Bella; Isabella seemed to eye catching for me._

_That is beside the point. Let me start over._

_My name is Bella, and if you're reading this… I'm already dead._


End file.
